Violence and Violations
by Katlover98
Summary: Fifth in"While You were Gone" series and prequel to the other m was looking for his brother and nothing was going to stop him.He'd move Heaven and Hell to find him.But what happens when not demons nor angels are the ones who capture him but humans?He's about to find out how truly terrifying humans can be and this might just be the reason he stopped looking for his brother.
1. Chapter 1

**TW: Rape, non-con, torture, sodomy, self-harm and suicidal tendencies. Please avoid reading if any of this trigger's you.**

 **Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or any recognizable characters, they belong to their rightful owners**

 **Here it is the next and most likely last installment of my "While You Were Gone" Series (Barring a few One-shots I have in mind). I will warn you right now, I will most likely give slow updates.**

 **Sorry for such a short first chapter.**

Sam watched as Crowley disappeared with Kevin, the King of Hell's words repeating in his mind: ' _It looks like you are well and truly... on your own._

No, it wasn't true, Sam wasn't alone. He still had his brother he just had to find him and he would find him no matter what. Sam left SucroCorp not caring if he was leaving a mess for civilians to find. It didn't matter to him if they learned about the supernatural or if they came up with their own conclusions for what happened; all that mattered was finding Dean.

Sam got into the Impala and just drove at a random direction not caring if the car was busted up. He would just go as far as the car could take him and have the Impala fixed, (Dean would be pissed that Sam took his Baby to a random guy to have it fixed) since he wasn't a master at fixing the car like Dean was.

Dean, his older brother, his number one rock. Sam would find him and then Dean would make fun of Sam for worrying about him. He didn't care the deals he had to make, he didn't care if he had to sell his soul he would find his older brother one way or the other. Sam felt his soul shattering even as he vowed to find his brother.

 **Two weeks later**

Sam through the book he had been researching across the room, frustrated. He had made it all the way to Rufus' cabin with the busted Impala. Sam had immediately taken it to a mechanic and had it fixed up. Now he was trying to find out what happened to his brother. Unfortunately, Sam couldn't really find out much about Leviathans and the Word of God. At least anything new. Sam felt he was going insane. He was doing everything he could to find out what happened to his brother but it wasn't enough. He had gotten nowhere. Sam let out a scream of frustration.

"Fuck," he yelled and then got up to get a beer; if he had anything stronger he might not stop until he was drunk and that wouldn't be proactive.

Sam thought of what his next move would be. He could try to trap an angel but that was risky. Maybe pray to one and ask them where Dean could be, maybe they can confirm if he was in Heaven. It'd be harder to get him out of Heaven but most likely not impossible.

' _Are you that selfish that you would rip Dean out of paradise for yourself?_ '

Sam gulped, what if Dean was really in Heaven? What if he wanted to stay there? He couldn't help but press on his now healed hand to stay focused, the old habit flaring up. Sam shook his head. No. If he knew Dean he would rather be alive and kicking then spending the rest of eternity reliving his greatest hits…Or maybe Sam _was_ just being selfish.

No, that type of thinking would lead him to insanity, instead, he focused on the idea of summoning an angel. He had all the ingredients for doing it so he knew it wouldn't be hard. The hard part would be getting them to answer his questions. Whether angels were dicks or not they were still celestial beings and part of the good side (good being used loosely here).

He guessed he could summon one and trap them in a ring of holy fire. Yeah, he could definitely do that. Or he could pray and hope that one of them would take pity on the boy with the demon blood and maybe answer his question. _Ha, that'll happen_ , he thought.

Even as he thought it he closed his eyes and gave a general prayer to any angel that was listening; ' _please, help me find my brother, I just want to know where he is.'_

He opened his eyes and looked around the room, disappointed but not surprised that he hadn't gotten an answer. He sighed, it looked like he had to do more research. He got up and picked up the book he had thrown earlier. As he flipped through the pages he failed to hear the flapping of wings. When he turned around he saw a woman standing before him. He took out his gun and pointed it at the intruder, "Who are you?"

"Sam Winchester, you should know who I am, you did just pray for me."

Sam lowered his gun but didn't put it away, "You're an angel, I didn't think anyone would answer me."

She shrugged, "You put away Lucifer and stopped the Apocalypse. While the higher ups did want to hareld the end of the world most of the lower tier angels didn't. We owe you for saving us all. The least I can do is answer your prayer."

"So, do you know where my brother is," he asked suddenly hopeful while putting his gun away. There was no point in having it out, it would be useless against an angel.

"No, I'm sorry," Sam's hope was quickly dashed just like that, "He isn't in Heaven at all of us have checked and he wasn't there. I wish I had better news but I thought it better that you at least knew the angels know nothing rather than hunting one of my kin down and asking them. Some of my brothers and sisters aren't kind, as you know."

Sam nodded, he wished the angel had brought him different news but now he knew that the angels didn't know either. The angel came closer to Sam.

"Don't give up, Sam Winchester, if there's one thing I know it's that you and Dean always find each other and since he's not in Heaven that means that he's still alive and you two will always find your way."

"Thank you," Sam choked out, emotion making his voice break.

The angel smiled, "You're more than welcome."

Sam looked at the empty space that had just had an angel. He smiled and renewed his research. He was going to find Dean one way or another.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, any recognizable characters belong to their rightful owners**

 **Enjoy**

 **TW: Torture**

 **Five weeks since Dean's disappearance**

Sam made a long and shallow cut on the demon he had tied on the chair; it was made powerless by devil's trap painted on the ceiling.

"Where's my brother," Sam shouted, "Tell me!"

The demon laughed, "More, you pitifully weak trash. I thought you Winchesters were supposed to be scary, all you're doing is tickling me!"

Sam wanted nothing more to stab the pompous dick but he couldn't, the demon could lead him to Dean and killing him wasn't an option, at least not yet, anyway. Sam was currently torturing the sixth demon in two weeks. After getting nowhere with his research and nowhere with the angels, (he had found a cupid who only gave him a look of pity), Sam had downgraded to demons.

Demons were the next logical choice since Crowley seemed to be knowledgeable about the tablets. The chances of a demon knowing where his brother was were high. Unfortunately, getting a demon to talk was almost impossible. Sam wasn't as versed as his brother in torture but he could do in a pinch. The first five demons seemed to want to cooperate after a while but the current demon had kept his mouth shut even after thirteen hours of torture and interrogation. Honestly, it was getting to Sam and if he wasn't so desperate he would've killed the demon hours ago.

Sam made a cut from the demon's throat to his stomach not deep enough to get to his organs but still pretty deep, "Where is my brother, do you or do you not know?"

"I don't know, bitch, do I know," the demon started laughing uproariously, "Look at you, pathetic. You were supposed to be the Boy King and here you are, useless. You can't even find your own brother. Well, he's dead, but I'm not telling you where he is. I hope you die a lonely, miserable death and your brother ends up being fucked by every—," Sam couldn't stand listening to the asshat's mouth any longer so he killed it without even thinking about it.

Once his breathing had calmed down Sam figured out what he had done, "Fuck!"

Sam had just killed another lead, one that most likely knew _something_ as he was really high up in Crowley's council. Sam hadn't been able to summon Crowley no matter how much firepower he put in the summoning spell. The now dead demon was the closest he could've gotten and he had killed him. Sam felt all his emotions erupt at once. Five weeks with little sleep, no older brother, researching, and torturing demons had left him drained, tired, and emotional. Before he knew it he was stabbing the now dead meat suit over and over and over again.

Once all his emotions were let out on the body Sam cleaned up, packed up, and continued looking for his brother.

 **Seven Weeks since Dean's disappearance**

It turned out Leviathan were harder to interrogate than demons. They were smug, thought they were better than humans, and they always looked at Sam like he was premium beef. It kind of freaked him out but he still went after one. Sam thought finding capturing one would have been hard, (he still remembered how hard it was to get one before and if it hadn't been for the he-witch it probably would've taken longer,) but capturing the current one had been easier than expected. All he had to do was find the signs of one being around. Apparently, after Dick's death, Leviathan had gone from being impossible to defeat to just your regular everyday monster.

Unfortunately, there wasn't much that could be done to torture a Leviathan. If you cut them they just laugh, you chop off their head they regenerated. Fortunately, Sam was very imaginative and he soon found ways to make a Leviathan talk with his only tool: borax. He'd make a levi force drink the liquid and watch as its throat and face burned as if acid had been thrown at it. At one point Sam had gotten a syringe and forced it into the levi's bloodstream (or whatever it had as a bloodstream) and watched as the borax ate away at its inside. Still, Sam had gotten no answer so he chopped off its head and then its body into little pieces and scattered the pieces.

He continued to do so to the next one, and the next one, and the next… After his seventh levi Sam knew it was pointless so he stopped hunting them down and despaired as he didn't know what to do next.

 **Two months and ten days since Dean's disappearance**

Sam ran out of the bar just as he heard gunshots behind him. He ducked as he tried to put as much distance between himself and the bar full of hunters, some of which were firing at Sam for being an abomination. Sam snorted. He'd wish he still was an abomination than he could've thrown them against the wall instead of getting in the way of him finding his big brother.

He reached the Impala and got the hell out of dodge. As soon as he got to the motel he started dabbing alcohol on the cut on his forehead. Unfortunately, fists and knives had also been involved. Sam hissed as the alcohol touched his wound and he couldn't help but miss Dean even more in moments like those.

He missed Dean's teasing when Sam hissed or groaned as Dean patched him up. He missed Dean's reassuring presence. He missed Dean. A part of Sam, a small part, wanted to give up and just drink away his sorrows. It seemed impossible to find out where Dean was. He didn't even know if his brother was still alive. At that point, Sam just wanted to know where his brother was dead or alive. If he was in Hell Sam would find a way to bust him out and if he couldn't he would join him. But he still didn't know where Dean was, he could be anywhere (except Heaven, it seemed) and Sam had no leads, no clues.

Sam always silenced that part that wanted to give up. It was useless to him. He would continue looking even if it killed him. There was nothing that could make him give up his quest in finding Dean.

 **Two months and two weeks after Dean's disappearance**

Sam entered the strip club without hesitation. He was on a mission and nothing would make him lose sight of it.

He had finally found someone who might be able to help him. She was a hunter named Mandy. She owned the strip club he was currently entering and usually, he would be kind of embarrassed entering one but right now he didn't care. A part of him did feel a twinge as he thought how much Dean would love being in the strip joint. Sam ignored it and went to the bar where he asked for Mandy.

"You're talking to her, big boy. You Sam?"

"Yeah, I am. You said you might be able to help me."

"Yeah, give me a moment. Hey, Jack, take over will you?"

A tall buff dude covered in arm tattoos showed up and took over bartending duties. Sam followed Mandy to the back to a little office. Hopefully, getting help from another hunter might lead him to find his brother.

 _Wait just a while longer, Dean, I'm coming for you, wherever you are._


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Don't own any recognizable characters**

 **Sorry for the shortness of the chapter**

 **Enjoy**

 **Four Months since Dean's disappearance**

Sam took another shot of whiskey before filling it up again. He was at a bar and instead of having to ask the waiter to refill him every time he took a shot he had asked for the whole bottle. The reason for his drinking was the same reason it had been for the past few months; Dean.

When he had met up with Mandy he thought he was finally in the right direction. She helped him come in contact with hunters and scholars with extensive knowledge and libraries, some that would've have made Bobby green with envy. For four months he had been busy combing through every book or script he could get his hands on. Unfortunately, while he did learn a lot he still didn't have a clue as to where his brother was. Worse of all, Mandy had gone through every contact she knew on her list.

That's why Sam was on his third bottle of whiskey drunk off his ass on a Monday at eight at night. He had just finished his the latest bottle when Mandy set by him, "That's enough, Sam. You aren't doing your brother any favors getting drunk."

"Winch'st'r traditi'n," he slurred.

"Yeah, well, I'm breaking the tradition. C'mon, Sam, I'm getting you out of here and you're staying at my place, no arguments."

Sam docilely followed, well more like stumbled, behind Mandy. She opened the passenger door for him and asked for the keys to the Impala. It took him a minute but he finally found them and they were on their way.

They were five minutes into the drive before Sam slurred out, "I miss h'm, I miss De'n. I just wanna my big brot'er back."

"I know big guy, don't worry, I'm sure you'll find a way," even in his drunken stupor Sam greatly doubted it. He had burned through every resource and contact he and Mandy could think of. Still, there was no Dean. When Sam had reached the guest bedroom in Mandy's house he immediately fell on the bed fully dressed and cried himself to sleep with Dean's name on his lips.

OoOoOoOo

Sam woke the next morning with the mother of all headaches. He groaned and sat up and immediately regretted it as he ran to the bathroom to empty his stomach. Once he finished worshipping the porcelain god Sam stayed on the floor of the bathroom. He felt like giving up. Where else could he look? Maybe he should just let Dean go.

Sam eventually got off the bathroom floor and went to the kitchen hoping to find some pain medicine. He looked around at some drawers wondering for the hundredth time why Mandy seemed to like to put everything from medicine to actually cloths in the kitchen's many drawers. He opened the last drawer to find a bottle of Advil sitting there. It was the best thing he'd ever seen. He took out the bottle and just as he was closing the drawer he saw Mandy's address book.

Sam looked around guiltily before taking out the little black book and leafing through it, hoping there were more people he could get in contact with. He flipped through the pages disappointed as he couldn't find any new names until he got to the second to last page. Fred. A name he hadn't heard. Sam couldn't believe his luck, maybe this Fred could lead him somewhere. He looked through the information and wrote down the number and address. As he wrote it down he didn't once wonder why Mandy might have neglected to tell him about that person.

Sam took the information and went upstairs to pack up.

OoOoOoOo

"Are you sure you have to leave Sam? You could stay a little longer, get your bearings back."

"Nah, I have to continue looking for him, Mandy. I got a new lead and want to follow it, you know? I appreciate everything you've done for me and I'll always remember it."

Mandy smiled and gave him a hug, "Anytime, honey, I'm sure Bobby would be proud of you. Now, don't be a stranger, I expect calls, understood? And if you do find that brother of yours bring him up to the joint, I'll even throw in free drinks."

"I know for a fact that Dean would love that."

"I know you'll find him soon, Sam. Now, remember, call me, if not I'll kick your ass."

Sam laughed before getting in the car. He had to go to Nebraska which was about a nine hours drive. Sam stepped on the pedal hoping to reach there sooner.

OoOoOoOo

He reached the border of the state in a few hours but unfortunately, the car started giving him some problems so he first had to have it checked out. It took two days for the car to be fixed and in that time Sam was trying to figure where this Fred lived. Apparently, it was in the middle of nowhere. Once the car was fixed, Sam gave Fred a call and told him what he was doing.

"Yeah, I have a big library, actually. My family has been hunters for generations so we have a lot of crap just stored up. You can come and I would be more than glad to let you comb through got directions on how to get here?"

"Yeah, I got my GPS. Thank you so much for your help. I'll be there soon."

"I'll be here waiting."

Sam appeared an hour and a half later to the middle of nowhere. There was a big, three-story house nestled between the trees. It was beautiful; it had Sam uneasy. He ignored it and went to the front door and knocked. He put his hands in his pocket trying not to fidget. A few moments later a tall, buff, bald man answered the door. He was at least in his late fifties but he was fit.

"Hi, you must be Fred, I'm Sam, Sam Winchester," Sam extended his hand to shake Fred's. Fred seemed to linger on Sam's hand but he ignored it.

"Yes, I'm Fred, come on in," he said while giving Sam space to enter. The inside was just as beautiful as the outside. It was all painted in browns and greens which gave it a woodsy feeling to it.

"So, you're here to try to find out what happened to your brother, you said?"

"Oh, uh, yeah, I've been trying to find him but I've come to a dead end every single time."

"Well, that's a shame," he said while giving a regretful frown.

"Yeah, that's why I was hoping you might let me browse your books. I might be able to find something there."

"Of course, of course, my boys. Where else could hunters turn to but to other hunters. Follow me, I'll lead you to my library."

Sam followed Fred and almost felt his mouth fall open; it was _huge_. If there wasn't something here then he wouldn't be able to find it anywhere else.

"I'll just leave you alone for so you could get started."

Sam absently nodded while going for the first book.

It was nightfall by the time Sam saw Fred again. He had brought a beer for Sam and himself, "Figure you might need this, you've been working hard all day."

"No, yeah, thanks," Sam took the beer after having rubbed his temples, they were hurting like hell. They both drank their beers silently. A few minutes later Sam frowned. He felt weird. It was getting harder for him to keep his eyes opened and he was getting dizzy. He looked at Fred who was smirking at Sam. Sam got up from the chair just fall to the floor. The last thing he remembered was Fred's smiling face and hearing, "this is going to be so much fun."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Don't own any recognizable characters**

 **TW: Rape scene**

 **Enjoy**

Sam woke up slowly and confused. What had happened? Sam slowly opened his eyes and had to blink away the bleariness. Sam came face to face with Fred. What the fuck is going on? He tried to move but felt resistance. He looked up and saw each of his hands was tied to a post on the bed. His legs were in the same position. He was tied spread-eagle on the bed. He almost had a panic attack right there and then but knew he had to keep his head on straight.

"Well, well, well, so if it isn't little Sammy Winchester all alone, without his big brother to help him out this time. Isn't that interesting?"

Sam felt a hand on his thigh; his _naked_ thigh. Sam flinched away from the unwanted touch. He tried to move even though he knew it would be useless. He saw Fred smile widen and then he started moving his hand up and down Sam's thigh; it was _way_ too close to Sam's cock for his liking.

"Take your hand off me you filthy asshole," the fucker smirked. Sam wanted to punch that smile off his face.

Instead of taking his hand off he spoke again, "So you're the famous Sam Winchester. Hell's personal bitch boy, you don't seem like much but, hey, I've hunted enough things to know that what you see isn't always what you get."

Sam felt a bucket of ice cold water hit his whole system just like it always did when someone brought up his past and his demon blood. Instead of showing it, though, he got angry.

"Go to hell you fucking bastard," Sam yelled while pulling on his bonds. There was no way in hell he was going to take whatever the bastard had planned lying down. He was going to fight even if it was pointless. He was a Winchester after all. Sam struggled and cursed at Fred until he tired out and went limp. Sam's wrists and ankles were bleeding. He was trying to catch his breath when he felt a cold, clammy hand touching his face.

"Such a beautiful bitch-boy," Sam heard from Fred.

"Go fuck yourself," he retaliated.

There was a booming laugh that seemed to echo all over the room, "Now why would I do that when I have you here. I don't usually swing that way but hey, what's the point of hunting evil if you can't have fun with it first."

Sam had no idea what he meant until he saw Fred taking off his clothes. Sam redoubled his efforts to escape even though he knew it would be pointless; he had to try, at least. Sam tried to fight Fred off as he got on top of him but with his limbs tied he was powerless. It made him so furious that his anatomy, his body, his _being,_ was being taken away, violated, once again.  
Tears of frustration were falling down Sam's face.

Fred started rubbing himself against Sam and Sam almost vomited at feeling the bastard's hardness on his thigh. Fuck, how did he end up in this situation? Fred started kissing Sam up to his neck and soon he reached Sam's lips. Sam couldn't help it, he bit the son of the bitch and felt a smug triumph for having done so. It was soon wiped out when he felt a slap, two slaps to his face. Did he just get bitch slapped?

"Fine, you little bitch. I was going to go nice and slow for you but since you want it rough, I'll give it to you rough."

Sam watched with trepidation as his will-be-rapist, (because there was no denying what was about to happen) spat on his hands and rubbed his dick with them, "be happy you even get my spit, whore, cause that's all the lube you're going to get."

Sam tried getting free again even as he knew it was pointless. Fred smiled at him, "I like it when they fight, makes breaking them so much sweeter."

Sam didn't have time to react when he felt it, a deep, burning, pain in his ass. Holy shit, he was being torn in two. Sam couldn't stop the tears of pain and humiliation sliding down his cheeks into the pillows. The pain was indescribable, he just knew that it ran from his ass all the way up and back down again; his legs were getting numb but that made pain come in sharp contrast.

"Relax and take it like a good little bitch; it'll hurt less," he panted while pistoning in and out of Sam. Sam wished he could be anywhere else but there at the moment. Unfortunately, the pain didn't let his escape even into his own mind. What felt like lifetimes later Sam felt Fred tense before he gave a bellow. Sam had to swallow back his vomit after feeling the hot, sticky, cum that was being shot up his ass.

Fred collapsed on top of him and Sam's arms were trembling after having to keep the large man up. Fred looked up and gave a sadistic smile, "Ready for round two?"

Sam shook his head as hard as he could, almost giving himself whiplash, and started begging, "Please, no more, let me go. I promise you won't see me again, please."

Fred's smile grew and then Sam felt his dick being held in cold, calloused hands. Sam actually whimpered, "Please, no."

"Oh, Sammy, don't worry," he chuckled out, "This time I not just going to take, I'll give back too. You'll like it I promise. Besides, you're already opened from earlier and the blood will make for a great lube."

Fred winked at Sam. Sam jumped as high as he could in his current predicament when he felt a wet tongue lick the head of his cock all the way down to the base. He took the length of Sam into his mouth and played with Sam's balls. Sam tried not to respond but, unfortunately, after a long time of being stimulated in his most intimate places, his body started to respond. Sam felt dirty. After so much time being played with Sam came. He cried out in humiliation and anger. What the fuck was wrong with him?

"Well, well, looks like my new acquisition is a little slut, who knew?"

"Fuck you."

Fred chuckled, "You want to get fucked again? I'm more than happy to oblige," and then Fred raped him again.

 **Sorry for taking so long to update. I'm about to finish my associate's degree when this semester finishes and I'm entering University in the fall so I've been busy. I know this is short but please bear with me. Thank you.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter, I'm sorry for having you guys wait so long**

 **All mistakes are my own**

 **TW: Same as the last chapter**

Sam woke up sore all over. After the first rape, Fred got off three more times in Sam's body and made sure Sam got off, too. Sam wished he could rub the soreness away but Fred had hogtied Sam making it impossible to move. He had left Sam on his stomach and sleep had been all but elusive in that position.

Sam tried moving his muscles hoping he could find a weakness but, like the night before there were none. Fred knew what he was doing and Sam's stomach turned at thinking how many times Fred has raped a person and put them in the current position Sam was in to become so good at it. He decided not to dwell on it. He squirmed a few minutes more until he heard a door opening. Then he went still in a vain hope that he wouldn't get noticed. Of course, it didn't work.

"How's my newest bitch?"

Sam refused to answer him. He felt a slap on his ass a few seconds later and he couldn't help but yelp.

"Answer me when I ask you a question, whore."

"Fuck off," Sam shot back. He was rewarded with another slap on his already sore ass. Thankfully, he was waiting for it so he managed to keep in his groan of pain, that is until Fred started bombarding his ass with slaps. By the time Fred was done Sam's ass felt on fire and he regretted having opened his mouth.

"Next time you talk back to me like that and I'm gonna whip you instead of using my hand," Sam couldn't stop the shudder that ran down his spine. He didn't have to imagine how much a whipping hurt; Lucifer used to do it down in the cage…Sam tried to shy away from those memories. He had enough torture right here, right now that remembering the past would just add to it.

"So, slut, I came down here to give you some good news," he slapped Sam's ass once more, "I invited some friends over and they can't wait to meet you," he finished by giving a booming laugh. Sam froze, no, it was bad enough when it was one person but four people? Sam would die.

Sam turned to his tormentor and pleaded, "Please, let me go, you don't have to do this, please!"

Fred stroked Sam's hair gently, Sam knew better than to think he had suddenly softened, "My new slut begs prettily, I'm going have to make you beg more."

Sam closed his eyes knowing he had lost this round. Sam suddenly groaned when he felt his muscles cramp. He instinctively tried to move his hands to rub his sore body but couldn't.

"Aw, is my little bitch boy suffering? I'll tell you what, I'll untie you and even give you water and some food if you open those pretty little lips of yours and give me a good, wet blowjob."

Sam couldn't believe what he was hearing, he'd rather suffer than ever give in to the asshole before him. He opened his mouth to say 'no' but was unable to since Fred stuffed his dick in Sam's mouth. Sam choked at the sudden intrusion.

"Good bitch, finally doing something without arguing. Still, you'd better start sucking and making this good if not you'll stay tied up for the rest of the day and you won't get any food or water. I imagine your throat must be like a desert right now."

It was. Sam tried to swallow at the mention of his dry throat and in doing so convulsing around his captor's dick, making it feel good for him. Sam didn't know what to do when he heard the moan of pleasure. He quickly thought things through. He wanted to escape and he would be unable to do so while bound, tired, hungry, and thirsty. Having made up his mind Sam went through with giving his captor and rapist a blow job…willingly.

Sam had never given head before. He had never felt the need to do stuff with the male gender but he knew what he liked and tried to replicate what women had done to his cock. It kind of worked. It was slow and awkward at first but he had gotten the hang of it and tried to ignore his gag reflex. Unfortunately, he had accidentally used his teeth and a hard blow had been given to his head. It had left him confused and in pain.

"Bad bitch, you don't use your teeth on your master's cock!"

Sam got another slap from his 'master' and this time he tasted blood as he had accidentally bitten his tongue.

"Now apologize and kiss it better," Fred ordered. Sam was about to tell the asshole to fuck off when a particularly bad cramp made him groan in pain. He saw Fred's smirk and Sam knew he would end up doing the humiliating task.

Sam looked up at Fred, "I'm so—," he was stopped with a finger to his lips.

"Not at, pretty little whore, at _him_ ," Fred thrust his dick at Sam's face and he couldn't help but grow red with humiliation. It was bad enough his rapist wanted an apology but he wanted Sam to do it at his dick? Still, Sam did so after feeling the cramps growing more painful, "I'm sorry," he said before giving the head a kiss. He wanted to retch after doing so. Somehow he was able to avoid vomiting. He didn't think Fred would be too happy with him if he did so.

Fred shook his dick in front of Sam's face, impatiently, "Well, slut, it's not going to suck itself."

Sam opened his mouth and blanked out. He knew what was going on but it seemed as if it was happening in a dream. Somehow, he was able to bring Fred to completion and swallowed it all as Fred didn't take his member out of Sam's mouth. Sam felt a few pets to his head and heard, "Good slut, now I'll keep my promise."

Sam was still out of it when Fred started untying the ropes that were keeping him hogtied. In the back of Sam's mind, he knew this would be the perfect chance to try to escape, fight back, do anything but just couldn't. He wanted to stay in his hazy world where everything was blissfully numb and far away.

He was just about to lose himself completely in his mind when he heard Dean's voice, ' _fight, baby brother, you can't let him win. You have to fight, you have to escape, you have to find me.'_

With Dean's encouragement, he slowly resurfaced. Unfortunately, it was to pain. His muscles were cramping to the extreme, his body was sore, and his ass was throbbing with pain. His jaw hurt because of all the stretching Fred's dick did to it and he had a horrible taste in his mouth.

"You came back, huh slut? I knew it would be harder to break a Winchester. You have no idea how easy it is to break other people, whether they're hunters or civilians and monsters, pfft! Don't get me started with those weak fuckers. The moment they become the prey they turn into little sniveling brats. I get bored of them quickly and kill them off."

Sam was listening but he couldn't believe what he was hearing, apparently, Fred liked holding people and monsters captive for his own sick pleasure. Sam shuddered, if Fred killed him would he ever see Dean again? That was his worst fear, not death, he's died too many times to fear death, no it was dying without ever seeing his older brother again.

When Sam surfaced completely he noticed the big chain and shackle on his right ankle. The chain was tied to the bed post. His hands were also in cuffs and a chain that left him enough leeway to at least massage his sore muscles.

"Didn't think I'd be stupid enough to leave you completely loose, now did you," he gave a booming laugh, "Oh, little Sammy Winchester," Fred grabbed Sam's chin and made him look up at Fred's face, "Breaking you will be fun."

Fred kissed Sam on the lips, violently, before breaking it off, "I'll bring you your food and then later you and I will have more fun before my friends get here."

Sam could hear Fred's retreating laughter as he climbed up the stairs. Sam couldn't help but try and hug himself, wishing Dean would show up.

 **Again, I'm so sorry for the long wait, I have been extremely busy with two jobs and enrolling into University for the Fall semester. I will try to be more diligent with my updates but I don't promise much. One thing I can promise, I** _ **will not**_ **give up on this story no matter how long it will take me to finish**

 **Thanks for understanding and your patience.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or any recognizable characters. I just owe the douche bags.**

 **TW: Same as the last chapter**

 **Additional kinks: Watersports, enema, scat (Kind of), a little bit of feminization**

 **Sorry for taking so long to update, I will be giving slow updates as I am a full-time University student with two jobs. Thanks for your patience.**

 **I'm writing this right now at midnight, so there will be mistakes**

 **Enjoy**

Sam was left alone after Fred had fed him. While alone he tried to find a way to get out of his cuffs, he wasn't very successful. He was stark naked, had nothing on him or near him to use to get out and he was shackled to a bed. Oh, and he had been sodomized. His life was just awesome, he thought sarcastically. Still, he couldn't give up; if he was tied up and fucked repeatedly without permission then he couldn't be out there looking for his brother. Sam went still when he heard the door open and close; he only heard one pair of footsteps and he calmed down a bit but not by much.

"How's my newest slut doing," Fred asked as he came into view. Sam didn't dignify that with an answer. He felt a sharp sting on his ass cheek a few seconds later.

"So now that you're watered and well-fed you decide to start disobeying again, huh, slut?"

Sam wanted to tell him to shove it but didn't want to provoke him further. He didn't need another beating or fucking. So he swallowed his pride and apologized, "I'm sorry."

"Sorry what, slut?" Sam was confused for a moment before he understood, "I'm sorry, sir."

He flinched when he saw Fred's hand near his face expecting a hit. Instead, he got Fred's hands carding gently through his hair; he felt a dark inkiness settle on the bottom of his stomach.

"Good slut, just for that you get to use the bathroom instead of an enema and catheter but I will give you an enema before the boys come to play."

Sam stilled, enema? What the fuck was this asshole talking about? He was about to tell him to go to hell when he felt the chains of his loosen. Sam didn't think, he reacted. He pushed Fred and then ran towards the stairs when he felt a shock go through his body and he dropped like a board. The shocks came coming over and over again until he blacked out.

When he came to his legs and arms were bound behind his back in a teardrop shape and he was being kicked over and over again.

"Stupid whore, here I was trying to be nice to you and what do you do with my kindness," Sam felt himself being pulled up by his hair, "You push, try to run, _and_ you make a mess!"

Sam was thrown unceremoniously onto a cold puddle that smelled like urine. It _was_ urine; his own piss. He must've voided his bladder when he had been shocked and convulsing on the floor. Now his face was on top of the rancid puddle while his rapist flitted around from across the room doing God knew what. Sam tried not to breathe too deep but no matter what he did the urine got into his nose and mouth. Sam jumped a little when a pair of boots came in his line of vision.

"Ugh, my floor is dirty, I've got to clean it up," Fred got ahold of Sam's hair and used it to mop up the urine from the floor, "Little bitches that make a mess have to clean it up," he stated as if he was talking about the weather rather than using Sam like a human mop and toy do with as he pleased.

After having his hair soaked through with piss he was dragged across the large basement, seriously it had to be as big as the whole first floor upstairs, then had his neck tied with a coarse rope before the other end of the rope itself was tied to a D-ring on the floor. Sam tried to move his hands and feet to get some feeling back to them but the most he could do was wiggle his fingers. The rest of his extremities were cramping up already. Sam had tears of frustration and humiliation falling down his cheeks.

How the fuck had he ended up in that position? He had just wanted to find his brother, _still_ wanted to find him. Instead, here he was, hogtied, raped, and with piss drying in his hair. Sam had no idea how he was going to get out of this one. There was no one alive anymore that would care enough to look for him after disappearing. Sam's tears came down harder. He was all alone in the world.

"Ah, I like to see my little bitches cry, but you, having one of the great Winchesters as my bitch, all tied up and crying, well, that does things to me."

Sam closed his eyes only to immediately open them in surprise when he felt something being shoved up his ass without any lube or warning. Sam gave a scream that vibrated throughout the whole room. Fred just laughed.

"I have to clean you up inside, now, I can't have the boys coming down here to play with my new toy and having it dirty now can I?"

"Fuck you!" Sam didn't care if he was punished for cussing out Fred, he just had to say it, "Get this shit out of me!"

Fred chuckled, "Oh Sammy, that's exactly what I'm going to do and for that little outburst I'm going to put some nice cold water in you instead of it being warm."

Sam felt the water entering his bowels and he couldn't help but squirm. He wasn't going to beg for Fred to stop, though, he was going to hold out as much as he could. Sam didn't want to give his captive the satisfaction of hearing Sam pleading.

Unfortunately, that plan went out the window as time passed and more and more water was released into his bowels. At first, it was uncomfortable but after a while, his insides started cramping. Being tied up the way he was Sam wasn't even allowed to curl into himself. Worse, still, was that he was on his stomach so the floor was also putting pressure on his insides.

Soon, Sam's resolve broke and he started begging, pleading to Fred to let him release the water inside of his belly. Sam didn't even care of the humiliation that was going to bring he just wanted to void himself.

"Please, I'm sorry, please," Sam cried out while tears were leaving tracks down his cheeks; his hair that had dried up and stank of urine was now plastered to his cheeks and forehead by the sweat that Sam was producing.

After begging and screaming Sam's voice gave out and the most he could do was give out hurt whimpers and groans. What felt like hours later the water finally stopped but the plug was still in him making it impossible for him to release the water.

"You know, you lasted longer than any other fuck toy I've brought down here. It took you almost an hour and a half and a ¾th of a gallon of water in you before you started begging. That's impressive. Now, by the time I'm done with you, you'll be taking up to three gallons without breaking a sweat!"

Sam whimpered at Fred's news having no doubt in his mind that Fred was going to put him through worse pain than he had so far. Sam couldn't do anything as Fred turned him to his side and he couldn't help but whimper again at feeling the water inside him slushing around.

"Now, if I untie you will you be a good girl?"

Sam nodded yes, at that point in time Sam would be willing to suck Fred's dick _and_ get fucked for the rest of the day by him if it meant getting the water _out_ of his fucking body. A new wave of pain assaulted Sam's body as feeling returned his limbs but before he could adjust to the new feelings Sam was dragged by his hair to a corner where there was a hose hanging from the ceiling and a drain just under Sam's feet.

Sam sputtered and tried to shield his face as cold, harsh water was sprayed on him. The water felt like little knives cutting his skin and it was ice cold. Sam could vaguely hear Fred speaking while he was being assaulted by the water, "Can't have my boys fucking you while you stink of piss."

Sam was then pushed down harshly on his knees and felt something cold(er) being put on his hair. It was shampoo. He closed his eyes and felt like crying out at how roughly Fred was cleaning his hair. He didn't care that his fingers felt like blunt knives on Sam's head. Sam couldn't do much as he was violently washed down while cramps were still assaulting his insides. Finally, Fred finished with the shower and he shoved Sam's face down while making sure his ass was in the air.

Sam felt as the plug was taken out of his asshole and without warning he expelled all the water in him. He whimpered and cried tears of humiliation as the water left his body. He could smell something foul, too, and he knew what it was. Sam let his cheek rest on the cold, wet floor as the last drops of water left his rectum. Without warning the hose was then again turned on and aimed at Sam's asshole and genitals. He couldn't help but yelp at the intense pain the water caused him in his most intimates part.

"There we go, clean inside and out. Now, the boys will be here this afternoon so I'm going to put you in bed for being a good bitch while being cleaned. I suggest you rest, Bitch, because you have a long night ahead of you."

Sam pulled along by the coarse rope still tied and hanging around his neck. He couldn't do much but crawl on all fours. For the time being Sam was defeated.

 **Okay, so I've never written enema before and I have no idea how much water a human body can hold but I write fanfiction so it doesn't have to be accurate, I guess. I hope this scene wasn't offending to anyone what with the scat and watersports.**

 **Thanks for reading**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or Sam, just the douche bags hurting him**

 **All mistakes are my own**

 **Sorry for the long wait, but hopefully this can tide you over until the next chapter.**

 **Warning: Read warning at the beginning of first chapter or tags.**

Sam woke to the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs and loud, boisterous talking and laughing. Sam wished he his hands weren't tied behind his back so that he could curl into himself. He was scared. If just one man could cause him so much pain he didn't want to think how much worse it could get. He almost whimpered when he saw three new men come in with Fred following close behind.

"Damn, you weren't lying; he _is_ a pretty one," Sam tried to flinch away from an aging red-headed man. The man smiled and made a show of grabbing Sam's leg and pulling Sam towards him.

"I can't wait to be inside this one, Fred, usually we have to settle for some ugly ones but this one," he wolf whistled.

"No, you ca—umph," Sam had been smacked hard by one of the men.

"Shut up, demon whore!"

Sam tasted blood in his mouth and had a ringing in his ears making it hard to hear what the men were saying but not impossible.

"Damn, Bill, I think you slapped him stupid, his eyes are crossed," one said with amusement in his voice.

Sam cried out again when he was pulled up to his knees by his hair coming eye to eye with the man that had just slapped him; he looked pissed and the hatred in his eyes was discernable.

"Good, by the time I'm done with this bitch he is going to wish he had never been born because of him my cousin is dead."

This man's cousin died because of Sam? Had Sam killed this man's cousin? It was rare for Sam and Dean to have gone after humans let alone killed them who could he be talking about?

"You don't even know who I mean do you, demon slut? The name Roy sounds familiar to you?"

Instant recognition hit Sam. Of course, he remembered Roy; it was hard to forget one of the people who killed both him and his brother. Sam had actually had to convince Dean not to go after Roy and Walt. Sam honestly hadn't known that he was dead.

"Oh, so you _do_ remember him, bitch."

"Please, I didn't ki—," Sam had gotten punched in the gut by Roy's cousin.

"Shut up, you did kill him! After you let the Devil and his demons out, my cousin died fighting a hoard of demons, it's your fault he's dead!"

Sam whimpered as his chest and abdomen were pummeled over and over again until the other three men pulled him off of Sam.

"Easy, Bill, I know you're pissed at him but take it out in a different way," said the red-headed one.

"Trust me, Harold, I will."

"I say we do piñata," one of them said and Sam was too confused to really understand what he was saying. Piñata, what the hell was he talking about?"

"I like the way you think, Joe."

Before Sam could really process anything his legs were tied up to the rope that was tying his hands behind his back. He was dragged to the middle of the room where there was a chain hanging from the ceiling and his ropes were tied to the end of a hook on the chain. He was then lifted up and was left hanging about six feet off the ground. He understood now; he was the piñata. Someone took a handful of his hair and tied it into a ponytail and then got the ponytail and pulled Sam's head back and tied it with a rope to a deadbolt on the ground. This had Sam looking up at the ceiling and tied to one place without swinging around.

Sam felt chills going throughout his body. Not only was he vulnerable and open to any type of torture (with his legs tied the way they were his genitals were on full display), but he wouldn't be able to see what he tormentors were going go to do.

"Please, whatever you're going to do, please don't," Sam begged.

Sam didn't get any warning he just felt a huge shock of electricity hit him and he went rigid in his bounds. He couldn't even scream. When the currents stopped coursing through his bodies Sam finally was able to scream. He had stayed silent he would've heard the laughter of the four men that had put him in such a position. The second time he had gotten shocked was on his testicles and Sam had actually bitten his tongue. The men had stopped quickly and put on a ball gag on him so he wouldn't bite his tongue off.

"No point in having him lose his tongue, I love to hear him beg," commented Fred.

Sam kept getting electrocuted and after what felt like an eternity it finally stopped. By that time his brain felt like mush and his whole body wouldn't stop shaking and convulsing. Vaguely he heard the men talking.

"Well, that was fun."

"Heh, yeah, I think we might've gone overboard, though, he's not responding. It's no fun when they don't fight back."

"He'll be fine, here help me get him down."

Sam didn't feel when he hit the floor, he saw it though when he was faced down on top of it, though. A part of him registered that someone had their hand on his ass and petting as if he was a horse.

"Damn, he's drooling, I hope we didn't break him or made him retarded or something."

Sam didn't know how or when it happened, he must've blacked out because the next thing he knew he was sitting in front of someone while they penetrated him. His body and mind were still so confused that he didn't really feel anything down there. The only reason he knew he was being fucked was that he was being jostled and the grunts of pleasure.

"Hey, bitch, you're back."

"Think he's ready to take the second cock up there," someone off the side asked.

Sam tried to concentrate on what was being said but his mind wasn't cooperating. He knew something bad was going on and most likely something worse was about to happen but his brain wanted to shut off, so it did.

When he came to again there was another man in front of him and the one still behind him drilling into him.

He tried to protest, his mind starting to clear up just a minuscule, but all that came out was "Nguuh."

"Oh, I think the whore likes having two cocks up his boy pussy," someone said mockingly.

"Nooo," Sam managed to spit out, "Pleesh, no."

"Holy shit, he's crying," the man in front of him grunted out, "Fuck, that's hot."

"Please," he managed to say more clearly.

"Shut the fuck up," Sam went stiff when he felt more electricity coursing through his body. He was left in a stupor.

"Holy fuck, Billy, no more electricity. I think we fried his brain this time, for sure."

"Fuck," yelled the man behind him.

Sam felt something sticky in his passage and it took him a minute to figure out that the man had cum in him.

"Fuck, I agree, no more electricity for the night but damn, that made me cum quickly. You should've felt how tight he got when you electrocuted him."

"Tomorrow, I will," was the last thing Sam heard.

Sam woke up with someone rocking inside of him. All the humiliation and pain he couldn't feel earlier hit him a thousand fall. He let a sob leave him.

"Shh," came a soft voice behind him, "Uncle Harold will make it all better."

Sam let darkness pull him down.

 **I know you guys signed up for a dak fic but I feel I should give another warning that Sam's life will get way worse before it gets a little better from here on out.**

 **Sorry for the short chapter**

 **Hope you enjoyed.**


	8. Chapter 8

**TW: Please read first chapter and tags**

 **Don't own Supernatural, just the ass hats that deserve hell.**

 **Enjoy.**

 **AN: I have no idea why it took so long to write this. I had such bad writer's block but hopefully, it's okay.**

Sam woke to someone gently in rocking his body. He sobbed when the cock deep in him hit his prostate. He hated himself for the tingling of pleasure that went from his stomach to his dick. He heard a chuckle behind him.

"Oh, sweet boy, are you enjoying what Uncle Harold is doing for you? Here, let me help you," Sam tried thrashing around to dislodge the hand that was suddenly on his dick. Sam had to hold back a shudder. He felt dirty. It didn't take long for Sam to actually cum and soon Harold came deep in Sam, again.

Harold kissed Sam's neck before he started sucking on it, hard. Sam actually flinched a little. He felt goosebumps rising all over his body as he felt the other man's salvia cooling off his skin. He felt hot tears falling down his eyes. How had this happened? Why was it always him?

Sam felt as the man, _Harold,_ took his cock out of Sam and he almost sobbed in relief. His hole throbbed because of all the abuse it had taken the whole night. Sam's body was also sore and hurting. He wanted to die. He felt hands massaging his body but he refused to go lax; he couldn't afford to do so. It would mean he had given up.

"Relax, pretty boy, I'll take care of you."

"Fuck you," Sam managed to strangle out. The massage immediately stopped. Sam's ass was suddenly bombarded with slaps. Sam tried to wiggle away but he could barely move as it was. After five minutes Harold stopped. By that point, Sam was a sniveling, sobbing mess.

"Let that be a lesson, beautiful, I am more lenient than the others but I will not be disrespected, either."

He felt the bed move as Harold got up to leave and Sam was left on the bed, crying.

Half an hour later Roy's cousin, Bill, came down the stairs. Sam actually tried to disappear. The man was pissed and hated Sam; it spelled trouble for Sam. Bill completely ignored Sam and went to one of one of the armoires. He took a big whip out of it and Sam couldn't help but cower and try to make himself as small a target as possible. Bill had another idea.

First, he pulled Sam's legs apart and tied them to the bedposts and then he did the same to Sam's arms. In the end, he was naked, spread-eagled, and at the mercy of a sadistic, pissed off man with a heavy whip. Sam almost begged but knew it would be useless so he grit his teeth and waited for the pain that was going to assault him. It didn't take too long a wait as Bill was eager to start the torture session.

No matter how big his resolve Sam couldn't help but let out a bloodcurdling scream when the whip hit his chest diagonally, getting one of his nipples in the process. He didn't even have time to truly process the pain when he felt another lash in his inner thigh, the whip just missing his genitals. The pain went on what felt like hours before it stopped. By that time, Sam was sweating, had welts all over the front of his body, and he was hoarse from screaming and begging. He tried to go into fetal position in the hope of alleviating the pain but tied the way he was the most he could do was move his legs up a little.

He eventually gave up and let himself feel the pain coursing through him. How had this happened? He had just wanted to look for Dean. He felt like praying but he doubted any angel would come.

 _Please,_ he couldn't help but send out there, _please, I need help. Help!_

In response, he felt his nipples crushed under alligator clips that had some types of wires coming attached to them. Before he could even start to guess what that was for he got the same treatment to his scrotum. Sam tried to escape the pain but the best he could do was contort his body so it looked like a bow. Fresh tears left his eyes.

He felt a wet tongue on his cheeks following the path his tears had left, "Your tears are delicious to me. Your screams and your begging are music to my ears and your current predicament makes you look beautiful."

Sam wanted to scream!

"Fuck you, asshole," was all he managed to say. He probably shouldn't have because Billy smiled and then showed him a control. A few seconds later he felt that hateful electricity coursing through him again. It wasn't as bad as the night before but it was still very painful. Sam felt his muscles go taut with pain.

"Last night, I was unable to sample your sweet ass while you were being electrocuted but, this time around the boys gave me first dibs. So, I'm gonna take my cousin's death out of your ass and mouth, and really anyway else I want."

Sam tried to get him off his body but Billy just took what he wanted. So, while also being electrocuted, Sam was, once again, raped. When he felt Bill stiffen and felt a fresh load of cum in his hole he went limp in his binds.

Bill got up abruptly and smiled, "You should really smile, the cameras are watching."

Sam closed his eyes in humiliation once the words registered and allowed the darkness to consume him.

Sam woke to something gently being used over his body. He opened his eyes to see Harold giving him a sponge bath. Harold grinned when he saw Sam's eyes.

"Hey, there, pretty boy, sorry about Billy but he's a little, how do you say, pissed because of his cousin. Honestly, I thought he was just incompetent and should've taken better care of himself while hunting but, Bill just won't listen to reason."

Sam closed his eyes while Harold wiped away his tears, "Don't worry, I'll be here to take care of you afterward. Uncle Harold will make it all better."

Sam closed his eyes once more.

 **I know, I know it's so short and I'm so sorry. I've been having a lot of issues lately and been diagnosed with PTSD and have been dealing with it. I'm sorry for the long wait just to give you this.**

 **Also, do you guys think I should skip a few of day of captivity to get the ball rolling or would you guys like to read a day by day list of what Sam went through? Let me know, and again, sorry for it being short.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural**

 **TW: Read the first chapter and/or tags, watersports**

 **Enjoy**

Sam was hanging upside down from the ceiling with a spider gag in his mouth. His hands were tied behind his back. He had lost feeling a while ago. He had been hanging for almost two hours while he kidnappers took turn using his mouth. How they could keep going for so long Sam didn't know. He only knew he was paying for it.

His own member was in a cock ring. He had been brought to hardness before he was hanged and his own precum had been hitting his stomach, occasionally his chest. Thick globs of his spit and cum hit the floor as he couldn't close his mouth. His belly felt distended and full with all the times the four men came down his throat. They have cum at least five times each. Sam felt sick but knew better than to vomit; he was afraid what would happen if he did throw up all the semen in his belly. He shuddered at the thought and gave a small groan. Unfortunately, in doing so he regained the men's attention. They had taken a beer break.

"What's wrong, sweetie, tired?"

"Stop coddling him, Harold."

Harold took his dick out of his pants and brought it to hardness in front of Sam's eyes. Sam felt his dry mouth and throat tense up. He knew it would be painful. His throat was already raw and he was thirsty. He almost begged, almost. He knew it wouldn't do any good anyway so why do so? He'd rather keep the last shred of dignity he had left.

Once again, Sam was used as an overblown sex doll, an object. When Harold finally came down Sam's throat he tried to swallow the load. Some fell out of his mouth and he felt a thick glob hit his eye and forehead. The men laughed.

"That's why you swallow," Fred said with a chuckle.

Sam ignored the man and tried to keep everything in his stomach. Unfortunately, after being tied for so long he was dizzy and pretty sure his face was as red as a tomato. He really wished the would cut him down. They took another half hour to talk and joke around while Sam was thirsty and miserable.

"Well, I'm tired, I'm going to bed," Fred announced, "have fun with our newest bitch."

Sam had been busy watching Fred leave that he hadn't noticed that was someone was cutting his rope until he fell on the floor.

"Umph," was the only thing that came out of his mouth as he landed on his back and therefore, his hands.

"Careful Billy, we don't want him to die just yet," Joe said with laughter in his voice.

"I don't know, I wanna keep him for myself."

"You disgust me, Harold, how can you want this abomination?"

"He may be an abomination but he's a damn cute one. Besides, if I keep him I'll make sure he's on my bed 24/7 just waiting for me to come and take him."

Sam ignored the men talking about him as if he wasn't in the room. He was too busy trying to take the pressure off his arms. For them being asleep it was super painful and uncomfortable to be on top of them. Sam finally was able to roll over to stomach. He noticed that the room was quiet.

Soon, laughter filled the silence, "Oh, that was so funny, he looked like a worm!"

Sam blushed and let his cheek rest on the floor. Why was this happening to him? He should be looking for Dean, not stuck in a basement with perverts making fun of him. He stood still as the men continued chatting and drinking, completely ignoring Sam. Once he relaxed a little, though, he was picked up by the strands of his hair; he had no choice but to get up.

He came face to face with a drinking Bill. Billy took a swig of his beer and Sam couldn't help but look at it. He was really thirsty and the sweat coming off the beer reminded Sam just how long it was since he had anything to drink. It didn't help that he had had dicks pounded in and out of his throat. Sam would do just about anything for a drink.

Billy must've noticed Sam's look because he laughed, "Is the little bitch thirsty?"

Sam narrowed his eyes and then reluctantly nodded; he was thirsty, now was the time to swallow his pride and hope the man before him had at least a little bit of mercy. He was wrong.

"Beg, bitch, and you might just get something to drink."

Sam licked his dry lips, a reminder of how dehydrated he was.

"Please, sir, may I have some water or something to drink, please?"

"Hmm, I don't know, you don't sound convincing to me."

"Please…Master, may I have something to drink?"

Billy grinned and then shoved his cock down Sam's throat. Sam's heaving, dry throat must've been enough to stimulate him because Billy groaned.

"Fuck, do that again, whore, and I'll definitely give you something to drink."

Sam wanted to bite the bastard but he was too thirsty to rebel. He tried his best to put as much effort as he could into giving Bill a blowjob. He really wanted to drink something. Billy soon ground Sam's head as close as he could. Sam ended up with the dick shoved completely down his throat and Billy's pubic hair tickling his nose. Sam almost gagged at the musky smell Billy was giving off.

Just when he thought that it couldn't get worse, it did. Billy stopped cumming and Sam thought he was going to get released soon when he felt something bitter going down his throat. It was urine. Sam tried to pull away but with his hands tied up, he couldn't do anything. Billy laughed as he took his cock out of Sam's mouth and watched Sam choke and gag on the acidic, bitter taste.

"Well, I'm tired, I'm going to bed," he said and he left, Joe following behind him.

Sam stayed on his knees, gulping down saliva in the hopes of getting rid of the aftertaste of piss. He didn't look when he heard Harold's chuckles.

"I swear, he's incorrigible. Now, what to do with you, beautiful?"

Sam tensed thinking there was more torture coming his way when he felt a cool bottle on his lips. Sam took a whiff to make sure it wasn't anything bad and was glad to smell water. He took a deep drink and would've kept chugging if the bottle hadn't disappeared from his mouth. He gave a smile whine and then heard a small laugh.

"Don't worry, you'll be able to finish the whole thing but I want to make sure you don't get sick."

Sam nodded, too tired, hurt, and beaten down to really fight back. At least Harold wasn't at bad as the other guys. In the back of his head, he knew that Harold was trying to manipulate him so that he'd end up with Stockholm but at the moment he couldn't care less.

He noticed something was wrong a few minutes after he finished the bottle of water. He couldn't move his limbs and he felt numb. Even after Harold had taken the ropes off his arms he couldn't feel them or the awful tingling sensation that follows.

"Don't worry, pretty boy, I gave you something so that you could relax while I take care of you. It makes everything less painful."

Sam couldn't really concentrate but he understood, at least at the back of his mind, that he had been drugged. At the moment Sam couldn't bring himself to care. He used the bathroom and did his business with the help of Harold. He should've felt embarrassed, and he knew he might be in the morning if he remembered anything when Harold helped to clean Sam up. Then he was washed down and given an enema. He could barely feel anything and was lost in his own little world. After that was done, he was taken to the bed where he was laid down.

The cock ring that he had had on for hours was finally taken off. He was so relaxed that he came quickly with just to three pulls to his cock. Sam felt himself melt into the arms of one of his captives. He knew he should fight. He wasn't tied up, there was only one person, and Sam was younger and probably strong than him. He couldn't move. He wouldn't move. This was the best he had felt since he's been captured and he slowly succumbed to a deep sleep.

Harold couldn't help but feel aroused at the beautiful boy in his arms. Truly, abomination or not, he was a rare beauty. Harold held on to the boy. He knew what he wanted to do, what he was doing. Sam was alone in the world. The only other person he ever counted on, his brother, was gone. Dead.

Harold wanted to gain the boy's trust. While everyone else treated Sam like crap, Harold would be a safe haven. He would convince Fred to let Sam go. He would leave Sam alone in the world for a few months and then come after him. Once he was in complete despair that he couldn't find his brother Harold will take his chance to pounce on the innocent boy. He'd be alone and Harold will be a friendly face in a world full of strangers.

Then he would belong to Harold forever.

"Don't worry Sammy, I'll take good care of you."

Sam dreamt that Dean was with him and he heard those words that he had been told his whole life, "I'll take good care of you."

 **So, I thought this would be my last multi-chapter fic in this series but then I kept thinking…What if I write about Sam's PTSD, recovery, and just the after effect after everything had settled? After Dean killed his tormentors? So show of hands, who wants to read Sam's recovery with his brother and Cas at his side?**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Don't own any recognizable characters, they belong to the WB**

 **All mistakes are my own**

 **Enjoy**

Sam dreamt. It wasn't just a dream, it was a nightmare. Dean's voice was ringing out from around the darkness that had enveloped him. Sam ran trying to find his brother but the voice came from every direction. After a while, though, the voice stopped asking for help and started condemning Sam.

"You're so useless. You can't even look for me without being caught and held hostage. You deserve what you have coming for you, I can't believe how much of a whore my little brother is."

"No, Dean, I'll get out, I'll find you."

"I doubt it, you little slut. I have _never_ let _you_ down yet when _I've_ always needed you the most you have _never_ been able to get your shit together long enough to help _me_."

"Dean, please," at that point in time Sam didn't know what he was begging for but he didn't stop looking through the darkness, looking for Dean.

Eventually, he stopped running. He felt tired and almost fell to his knees when Dean showed up in front of him. Before Sam could get up to hug his brother he felt Dean's fingers around his neck and he started to squeeze.

"You useless slut," he yelled.

Sam tried to speak but he couldn't breathe. Dean's fist got tighter and tighter; he was going to die. He was…

Sam woke up with a cock in his mouth. It was choking him and Sam struggled so he could get a breath. Without warning, he was choking on the man's cum. He didn't even know who was fucking his mouth he just knew he couldn't breathe!

The cock left his mouth and Sam had hard coughing fits trying to suck as much air as he could while trying not to vomit. He only succeeded in doing the opposite. He vomited up the cum that had been forced down his throat and bile. Before he even stopped vomiting his face got shoved into it.

"Filthy whore, clean that up!"

Sam recognized the voice as Billy, his least favorite rapist.

"Please," he tried to beg.

"Shut up and clean it up," to emphasize his point he shoved Sam's face harder into the vomit. Sam had no choice but to clean it up if he wanted the pain to stop. He was humiliated as he licked it up. It had gotten cold and it made Sam's stomach roll, threatening to come back up. Somehow he did it without getting sick again.

Sam felt Billy push him to his stomach. With hands and legs tied behind him, he couldn't do anything but let it happen. Then he felt Bill's cock on his opening. Sam wasn't even able to take a breath before he felt himself being impaled. He grunted in pain but bit his lips to keep quiet. He didn't want to give his rapist the satisfaction. Especially Billy who seemed to revel in Sam's pain and humiliation. He was lucky that he was still open from the night before. How sick was it that he was kind of glad that he had been fucked so much the night before that the fucking now didn't hurt as much.

Sam felt Billy's hips start to stutter and he knew the man was close. A few seconds later Sam felt something hot and sticky being pumped into his ass. Sam closed his eyes and tried to ignore the man grunting like an animal above him. To make matters worse, the man fell on top of Sam after having his way with him. Sam had to support him and feel his sweat running down his body and onto Sam's. He had to feel harsh, hot breath being puffed onto his neck. Sam wanted to vomit again.

What felt like hours later, Billy finally got off of Sam and went to untie him from his binds. Sam gritted his teeth as life came back to his dead limbs. He rubbed them as best he in the hopes that he could speed up the process.

Sam felt his hair being pulled and his eyes caught Billy's. Billy's eyes were full of glee. He was enjoying everything he had done and would do to Sam. Something in Sam snapped. He punched the prick on the dick and watched with satisfaction as he keeled over. Sam then kicked him a few times for good measure. He had to get out of that place and find Dean. He kicked Billy one more time on the head making sure the man would stay unconscious. The last thing Sam needed was to be attacked from behind.

Ignoring the pains and aches of his body Sam went up the stairs and tried to open the door. It was locked. Sam gritted his teeth and started throwing his whole body weight on it. He hoped the other men weren't awake or anywhere near the door. He knew, in the back of his mind, that he would not get far without any clothes on and with no idea where he was going but being lost naked in the middle of the forest was better than being trapped in a huge house with four sadistic assholes. He just had to get to the Impala. That's what he had to do.

As soon as the door gave way he went out. He stood still for a moment trying to get a sense of his surroundings. The room was still. He couldn't hear any noise and there was no movement that he could detect. Sam sneaked through the house trying to be as silent as he could. Using his memory of when he first entered the godforsaken place he found the door and went out.

The moment he felt cool air he sprinted towards the forest. He was close. All he had to do was get into the thicket of trees and he knew he would be home free. He could hide and elude the men that would be on his heels. He would have a chance. He would find the Impala and then Dean. He could do it; he _would_ do it.

He ran.

Before he could make it to the trees he fell like a bag of bricks.

 **Yes, it's short and I'm sorry about that. Like I've said before life keeps throwing shit at me and I don't have enough time to write as much as I would like. I was going to write this longer but it has been so long since I last updated that I decided I had to give you guys** _ **something**_ **to read.**

 **Hope you enjoyed and again, sorry for the shortness of it.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural or its characters**

 **I'm back. I'm so sorry for the late update, unfortunately, life gets in the way of the important things…plus I might've had a bit of writer's block. Hopefully, I can update again soon now that I have a month and a half break from university.**

 **Thanks for your patience**

 **All mistakes are my own**

 **Warning: The same trigger warning from the beginning, some watersport and now we can add foot torture to this list**

 **Enjoy**

Sam woke up with an ache on his shoulders, wrist, knees, and ankles. He opened his eyes and saw the sky was upside down. He frowned, that wasn't right. Sam looked around and saw that his hands and feet were tied to a very sturdy branch. He was tied like a fucking pig being taken to a luau. Sam felt a sudden sharp pain on his nose.

"Ahh, ugh," Sam tasted blood and his nose was throbbing.

"You fucking bitch, I'm going to make you regret ever being born."

"For your information, asshat, I _already_ regret being born," Sam probably should've kept his mouth shut because next thing he knew a hand was grabbing his balls and pulling them away from him. Pain exploded all over his body. He tried to breathe through the pain and nausea that was assaulting his body.

Vaguely, he noticed that it was Billy, the one whose nuts he had kicked, who was torturing him at the moment with glee on his face.

Sam bit his lips and he tasted fresh blood. He refused to give in to the pain.

After an eternity later, Billy let go. Sam's stomach was still rolling and he had to truly concentrate to not let go of the meager contents in his stomach. He didn't feel like licking vomit twice in one day.

"Little bitch," Sam's hair was pulled. He didn't make any noise and glared up at Billy.

"How're your balls?"

Billy's face twisted into a mask of fury. He started punching Sam's face and didn't stop. He had to be pulled away from Sam. Sam couldn't keep his head up and he watched with disinterest as blood pooled underneath him onto the ground. He should've been alarmed at that but he was too disoriented and out of it to care.

He vaguely heard angry voices around him but he couldn't concentrate on the words because of the ringing in his ear. In the back of his mind, he thought to himself, _maybe pissing off you're kidnappers while tied to a tree like a fucking deer about being bled dried wasn't the best idea._

Sam wished his hands were free so he could at least assess the damage done to his face. He wondered if his nose was broken what with the way it was throbbing. It felt broken. Tears were now being added to the blood.

 _I want Dean._

He didn't care if he sounded like a child, he missed his older brother. Dean always made things better.

He felt a sharp pain on his head and found himself staring at Billy's ugly face, "Dean isn't here you freak. He's gone forever and probably happy to be rid of your ass, wherever he is."

"Argh-uh," was Sam's brilliant response. Sam hadn't known he had spoken out loud. Billy let go and Sam let his head hang. He was too tired to keep it up. If he had been looking at his captors he would've noticed the thin switch each had in their hands. He hadn't been, though, so it was surprising when he felt the first stripe of pain blossoming on his right foot.

"Ahh," Sam couldn't keep in the sound of pain. Once the pain started more got added on top of it and Sam couldn't stop the sounds coming out of his mouth. Soon four different men were hitting Sam's feet, legs, and genitals with a switch. Sam could do nothing but squirm around like a worm and cry out in pain.

He didn't beg them to stop. He at least tried to keep a bit of dignity left. He wondered how much longer he could.

The sun was almost overhead when the hitting stopped. Sam tried to catch his breath. He blinked away tears. They were blurring everything around him and he wanted to be able to see what they were going to do next.

Suddenly, there was a cruel voice by his ears, "Maybe this will stop any thoughts of you running away from us, bitch."

Sam felt a knife on the sole of his foot. There was no pressure behind it but he knew what was going to happen next. It still hadn't prepared him.

The first cuts were done on his toes. Then needles were pushed into the rest of his foot. His other one received the same treatment. After having had his feet bastinado the whole morning the cuts and puncture wounds felt so much worse.

After they got bored of him all four of his kidnappers left him hanging from the tree with the needles still stuck in Sam's feet. Sam moaned as they walked away and Harold turned around. He patted Sam's cheek and said, "You brought this on yourself, pretty boy, you shouldn't have run. You definitely shouldn't have kicked Billy."

Harold looked down at him with disappointment in his eyes, almost as if he was chastising an unruly child, "If you had been good you wouldn't look like a red and white zebra right now."

Sam closed his eyes. He wanted to tear all of these men apart. He wanted Dean.

"If you act good, I'll bring you a bit of water for later."

Sam unconsciously licked his dried lips. He was thirsty and hungry, he was in pain.

"Fuck you," he whispered before turning his face away from Harold. He was the worse. Sam knew what Harold was trying to do. He was trying to be the nice one in a room full of evil ones. He was trying to get Sam to feel something positive towards him so that Sam would do everything he said. As if he also didn't spend the morning causing Sam pain. Harold was just as sick, twisted, and evil as Billy, Fred, and Joe. He was trying to get Sam to doubt himself and put all his trust into Harold.

Sam was afraid it would work. After all, he was weak.

"Fuck you," he whispered again, "you're worse then they are. They're at least upfront with their depravity. You're trying to screw with me psychologically, too."

Harold got Sam's chin and made Sam look at him. He was smiling but his eyes were cold.

"Maybe, pretty boy, but face it, I'm the only one here who even cares a little that you don't die or become completely broken. I actually want you to stay alive, so you have better start treating me better."

Sam's eyes misted over with tears, "Why?"

"Because unlike the other things we've played with over the years I didn't give a shit if they lived or died. You, though, I want you for myself. Every other toy we've hunted down and killed but you, I won't let that happen. Once the boys get bored with you, I'll convince them to let you go. Then, when I'm good and ready, I'll find you again and keep you for myself."

"If you guys really let me go, there's no way in hell I'll let myself be captured again."

Harold crouched down to make eye contact with Sam. Sam would've pulled away but Harold kept hold of his chin.

"Trust me, once we're done with you, you'll have nothing left. All the pain and suffering won't let you live normally. You'll be alone because let's face it, the chance of big brother returning, those are basically zero. Once the loneliness becomes too much, you'll basically be begging me to take you with me. And I'll be there, pretty boy. I'll take you with me and you'll welcome me home and beg for my cock deep in your ass."

Harold got up and unzipped his pants. He took his hard cock out and put it in front of Sam, "Now, why don't you make it good and I'll bring you water right now."

Sam licked his lips again. He really was thirsty and the sun was now high up. The heat was beating on Sam's naked body making him sweat. He opened his mouth and let Harold feed his length into Sam's throat. He choked a bit but thankfully he just had to take it.

A few minutes later he felt Harold tense and tasted the bitter fluid slowly slugging down his throat. Sam's face was kept close to Harold's body. He could smell his rapist's musky scent and feel the sparse hair on his balls tickling Sam's nose.

Sam's eyes widened when he tasted the bitter and acidic liquid suddenly pouring out of Harold's dick. Sam struggled, he hated this. He hated the fact that he could be used however he wanted to be by those four monsters.

Tears of frustration and anger left his eyes. He was being used as a fucking toilet.

He _hated_ the men that were using him as a toy for their pleasure and entertainment.

"That's for cursing at me, pretty boy," Harold zipped himself up, "I'll bring you water in a few hours."

Sam yelled out in frustration and anger. He yelled and screamed and cursed for a few minutes before he gave up and let himself go limp.

Sam was left hanging there like an animal for the rest of the day. It wasn't until a few hours after the sun had set that they had finally let him down.

Harold put a cup filled with water up Sam's lips and he drunk from it greedily. When he was done he heard Harold's laugh and he couldn't help but feel like he had lost.

Billy put a rope around Sam's neck, tied his hands behind his back and made him get up. He looked down at his lower body and saw angry purple and red welts on his skin. Some had even broken and had bled. They made him walk on his hurt feet all the way back to the house. Billy seemed to purposely lead Sam on the rockiest way back.

Anytime Sam stopped, struggled, or tried to slow down he was hit with a shock from a prod on his ass or legs. After he was led back to the basement he felt himself give up. He was back to where he started and he didn't think he would have a chance to try to escape again.

He laid there limp as they fucked him over and over again. That day he cried more tears than he had before.

 _I just wanted to find Dean,_ was his last coherent thought.

 **Sorry for taking so long and for the shortness of this chapter. I know you guys have waited for a long time.**


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